


Characters In Search of an Exit

by by_no_one_more_than_me (Lady_Cleo)



Category: Bridesmaids (2011), Identity Thief, Mike & Molly, Spy (2015), The Heat (2013), The Nines
Genre: Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Melissa McCarthy is awesome!, Movie Reference, Movie Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:18:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4357691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Cleo/pseuds/by_no_one_more_than_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Melissa McCarthy's characters ended up in a room together...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Characters In Search of an Exit

**Author's Note:**

> Contains at least minor movie and show references and spoilers.  
> Rated T for language.

Five women were sitting in a room. Well, three were sitting, one was pacing a continuous circuit and the last was doing pushups on a section of hardwood floor.

The pair sitting on the small seafoam sofa was dressed alike: simple blouses under sweaters, brightly patterned A-line skirts that ended just below the knee, and cute but sensible heels. Aside from a startling physical resemblance no one seemed to notice, they were discovering they had a lot in common. 

"You used to be a teacher? Me too! West Hampton, Virginia. Where were you?"

"Chicago," Molly replied, smoothing back a lock of her flowing brunette hair. "But I quit to follow my passion, so I went into writing."

Susan made a wow face, nervously fluffing her shorter, sandy blonde waves. "I joined the CIA."

Molly seemed suitably impressed, asking if she could interview her sometime for a character. "Maybe a spy on her first mission? Oh! Because the guy she's been covering dies and she wants to avenge his death... because she loves him... and he didn't know - oh that's good!" She fished out a notebook and started scribbling furiously.

The woman in the navy wingchair opposite, dressed in a luscious red wrap top and dark wash jeans, swung a chunky wedge and wrapped a piece of her dark, chin length bob around one finger. Susan felt bad for excluding her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I'm Susan and this is... Molly?" The author looked up and nodded in confirmation, setting her Moleskin aside with a stifled sigh.

"Margaret," the woman offered with a sweet grin and no further detail.

Molly tapped her arm and made a 'drop it' face but Susan was undeterred. "And what do you do, Margaret?"

"I'm an assistant agent in Hollywood and I talk to God on the phone."

"Oh I hear ya," Susan said with a sympathetic smile. "You get those calls from upstairs, you just can't say no."

"No you can't," she murmured softly. Susan caught a glimpse of unbearable sadness in the sudden shuttered expression, then Margaret's face smoothed into a tranquil mask. "But we've been talking for 25 years; I'm used to it." A blaring musical ringtone cut off the former teachers' attempts at mental math for that incongruous statement. "Hello? ... What?!" Margaret mouthed 'be right back' and excused herself. "Well _who_ thought it was a good idea to let Britney play poker?"

The vacated seat was quickly taken over by the pacing woman, who flopped down unceremoniously with one leg over the arm.  A faded blue top proclaiming "Nothin' Beats a Narragansett!" stretched under a denim vest, the outline of a gun was at her hip, and she popped her knuckles like firecrackers through fingerless leather gloves. Whipping to plant heavy motorcycle boots (caked in what Susan prayed was mud) on the floor, she blew a few strands of mousy brown frizz out of her eyes and pinned the ladies with a look.

"Okay," she began without preamble, slight Boston accent bleeding through. "The way I figure it, someone put us in here to see us sweag, try and get the drop on us. There's no pressure plates under the floor or visible cameras in the corners - although have you seen where they're putting 'em nowadays? Gotta take a fucking wand with me on dates so I don't end up with a million hits on RedTube." She broke off with a shudder, and Susan and Molly struggled to get anything out. They failed before she leapt back in. "Anyways, one of you gets on the ground, we take those blunt objects off the mantel, yell for help, get the first person through the door and get the fuck outta here."

_Jesus_ , Susan thought. _This girl would be right up Ford's alley... if I wasn't already... up Ford's... never mind._ "Well I don't know about you, but I was invited here." She withdrew an elegant invitation from her bag. Molly produced a matching card and Scary Boston Biker Babe flashed a crumpled wad in her pocket that might have been one too. "Attacking our host, or hosts, or hostess might not be the smartest thing. We should just wait it out. Someone will be here soon."

"Maybe we could play a game or tell stories or something to pass the time?" Molly suggested in a tone of dubious hope.

"Yeah, I gotta game for ya - it's called Shut the Fuck Up!"

Susan and Molly shared a look before Susan tentatively asked, "So... is that like... the Boston version of the Quiet Game or...?" The foul-mouthed newcomer rolled her eyes with a frustrated growl and shoved out of the chair. The woman on the floor completed a fifth set and hopped to her feet. Hiking boots made a clomping noise as she headed over and the pair on the sofa took in the rest of her outfit as she blocked Boston's path. Khaki capris showing off muscular unshaven calves, a button down golf shirt and a hat covering a short raven-black ponytail above an unmade face added to the mild androgynous uncertainty.

"You wanna get the fuck outta my way, Tiger Wouldn't?"

"The name's Megan and you wanna pass the time, Red Sox? I got two words for ya: fight club."

Boston took a second to blink. "That badass Brad Pitt movie?"

"The book was better," Molly and Susan chimed in stereo, sharing a giggle before the twin glares of the women squaring off hit them. "Sorry." Megan and Boston refocused and their clash resumed in a trade-off conversation.

"Ever watch that shit when you're high?"

"We talking a joint? Cause that's really better for cartoons."

"True." Staring off into space, they breathed _Spongebob_  with a fond nostalgia, then shook it off. "Nah. I'm talking a big bowl of H-"

"Cut it with a little Ritalin?"

"Heaven on fuckin' earth," they concluded, eyeing each other with a grudging respect.

Susan and Molly, enjoying a Wonder Twins moment of their own, piped up from the loveseat. "What is this - _Training Day_?"

"So what - you got a DVD player in those soccer mom shorts?"

Megan returned the affectionate slam with a sock to the shoulder. Yeah. It goes with the rental card to the Blockbuster you're carrying in those MC Hammer pants. And I meant we're the fight club." She gestured to the room at large with a swirly finger. Boston shook her head and stuck out a hand.

"Shit. I like you. Officer Shannon Mullins, Boston PD."

The knowledge that this woman is armed law enforcement did _nothing_ to calm Susan's unease, but Molly leapt in headfirst. "Hey, my husband and his beat friend are on the force- Chicago PD!"

"Remind me to bring my own heat to the Windy City, then."

The writer shot the cop a glare before the beep of a disconnecting cell preceded an apology in a smooth voice. "Sorry about that. What'd I miss?" Everyone turned to regard the woman settling in to the wingchair with varied reaction. Her shoulder length blonde hair gleamed in the light, and a flirty wrap dress in a stunning blue and white Mediterranean tile design showed off her figure to perfection. White kitten heeled sandals had been silent on the Aubusson carpet. A wedding band sparkled on the appropriate finger and her makeup was flawless.

"Wh-wh-who are y-you?" Susan stammered.

The newcomer's forehead developed a darling crinkle of confusion. "I'm Melissa."

"What are you, nuts? You were just talking to her a minute ago," Shannon supplied. "Do I need to 5150 your ass?"

"Hey 72 hour holds can be like mini-vacations," Molly interjected. "We committed my mother-in-law for a few days last year before she scared the doctor into signing her out. Thorazine comes in vanilla now."

Megan tilted her head, as though a new angle would change her perspective. "I know I was on the floor but I don't think that's the same girl you were talking to before."

Melissa took in the ping-ponging debate with a bemused smile, as though she wasn't sure what she had walked into. Susan knew the feeling.

Speaking of, her head was starting to itch. Reaching up a hand to scratch, she was shocked at the sensation of her hair sliding off into a fluffy puddle on the cushion. _A wig? Why am I wearing a wig that looks like my hair?_ The hand that had revealed the strange disguise cautiously went to her temple, but instead of encountering smooth skin she felt soft flowing hair. Molly's eyes were wide as she reached a shaking hand over to capture a tendril of Susan's new coiffure, holding it up against her own for comparison. It was a perfect match.

"Holy shit - they really **are** twins!" Susan surged to her feet and rushed to the mirror over the mantel. Melissa and Molly flanked her left and right, the blonde wearing a concerned expression, and Molly nearly impossible to tell apart from herself- if not for the elegant black gown Susan now inexplicably wore. Shannon and Megan bookended the trio and Susan's eyes darted from face to face, seeing the same features contorted into multiple expressions. It was like a bizarre funhouse illusion, or a bad trip.

A knock at the door resounded before it swung open. A woman with a wild flaming red perm and makeup Tammy Faye Bakker would call unsubtle walked in carrying a clipboard. "Hello ladies. I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting. I'm Sandy Bigelow..." She held up a laminated tag around her neck for emphasis. "Patterson! Now I realize some _weird things_ have probably been going on," she said out of the side of her mouth, arching a hand around the other corner like she was telling a _sotto voce_ secret; it was a gesture most of them recognized.

No one got a question out before she continued in a bright tone. "But first I wanted to talk to you about identity theft protection. You can never be too careful, amiright? Now... you all have your wallets and at least two forms of ID?" The women offered a collective waving nod, and a garish pink smile spread across Sandy's face. "Great. That is just... super. Let's get started, shall we?"

The door behind her swung quietly closed, trapping the women inside.

**Author's Note:**

> So a few years ago, I stumbled upon a story that had Julie Andrews characters in a room together. (Don't ask what they were doing there or what it was called; the general idea and one or two lines are all that stuck.)   
> But after realizing that Susan and Molly were both teachers who become something else, I started pondering what Melissa McCarthy's characters might be like if they were in a similar situation, and this sorta happened.  
> Hope you like it. Even if you don't, comments are appreciated.


End file.
